


trust fall

by aubadechild



Series: ShuAke Confidant Week 2018 [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira's world (akechi) literally comes tumbling down on top of him, Crack, Fluff, M/M, Trust, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 14:58:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubadechild/pseuds/aubadechild
Summary: Akira teaches Akechi the meaning of friendship, and in the process Akechi learns that, yeah, that whole "trust" thing was probably overrated in the first place.{ mini-fic written for Shuake Confidant Week 2018 Day Four. }





	trust fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slytherin_Elemental](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytherin_Elemental/gifts).



> gabby this one's for you - the angst companion piece to this is coming tomorrow ;)  
> edit: the angst companion piece can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16503017).
> 
> I didn't read this like, at all, because I wanted it to go up even vaguely "on time"
> 
> This fic can also be found on [Tumblr](https://aubadechild.tumblr.com/post/179678829779/trust-fall-shuake-week-day-four-domestic), if you fancy that sort of thing

“What’s a ‘trust fall’?” Akechi asked, unprompted, and Akira did a spit-take that would prompt the world’s most esteemed comedians to grovel at his feet. Sometimes he wondered if Akechi was just an android designed by an alien species in order to infiltrate modern society, what with the “hello fellow humans” way he spoke half the time, and his complete lack of awareness of normal teenage activities. Other times, however, Akira found himself caught off guard by his off-beat sense of humor, or taken by surprise by an insightful comment.

But usually his experience of Akechi Goro was more in line with the former thing. 

“A trust fall is when you T-pose and let gravity do the rest,” Akira responded matter-of-factly, not bothering to pause as he half-heartedly wiped down the countertop. “Oh, and you’re supposed to have someone catch you. That’s a pretty important part.” 

“Hmm, I see. And what’s a ’T-pose’?” 

Really, he should have expected that one. He _should_ have. Akira slid over to where Akechi sat, prim and proper (robotic, almost? like an android, perhaps?), pinky finger at the perfect angle to denote politeness as he sipped from a mug of steaming coffee. Akechi had a _usual_ stool now—that was significant, somehow—a _usual_ order, and was teetering dangerously on the edge of becoming a “regular” at Cafe Leblanc. The fact that not only had Akira gotten somewhat _used to_ his presence, but felt, in the detective's absence, as though something was _missing_ from the decor, as though something of the ambiance was _lacking_ , was, in a word: _troubling_. 

Akira stared down his nose at his expectant young friend. “Let’s do it,” he said, and Akechi’s failure to swallow turned into a wet cough. 

“Do what, Kurusu-kun—“

“Look, there’s no one here right now. I’ll show you how to do a trust fall. Trust me. It’s the easiest thing in the world. So easy, even _Ryuji_ could do it.” 

Akechi seemed to consider that with a certain gravity that had not been present prior. His trademark way of _considering_ involved pressing a gloved finger to his lips and frowning. Akira always wondered if he was actually as deep in thought as he appeared to be. If he was, then any ounce of concern Akira had ever held for his mental integrity was justified, full stop. 

“All you have to do is trust?” Akechi asked. 

Akira nodded twice. 

“I… suppose…" Akechi continued. "But what if no one catches you?”

With a wink charming enough to rival Ann herself, Akira told him, “Now you’re catching on.” He emerged from behind the counter and held out his arms. “Do you trust me?”

Akechi eyed him with all the requisite suspicion of a superstar detective. “Can I?” 

“Trust me, you can trust me.” 

Akechi sighed himself upright and dusted invisible crumbs from his lap. “This is ridiculous,” he said, to make sure _someone_ was aware of how much he disapproved. 

“That’s something a quitter would say. You like games, don’t you, Akechi-kun?”

“I enjoy the occasional strategic—“

“If you do this I’ll make you sweets for a week.” 

“So I just lean backwards?”

Akira laughed. “You just lean backwards, and I’ll do the rest, alright? Like I said, it’s not exactly complicated.”

He thought he heard Akechi mutter something like _You don’t know the half of it_ , but given the context of their location it could have just as easily been something about _half-and-half,_ so he ignored it entirely. 

With Akechi in position, back turned and arms folded against his chest, Akira couldn’t help but feel a bit foolish. But it was the childhood kind of foolish—the kind of foolish that relied on an adult catching you in the act of being so, but on its own could just exist and be sort of, actually, fun, removed from grown-ups’ eyes. 

“I’ll count down from three, okay?”

Akechi gave a hoarse affirmation, and Akira began to count:

“Three… two…”

And that was when three things happened at once, because, much like a comedian, the universe understands the hilarity implicit in groups of three: Morgana, feeling feline frisky, darted out from some dark corner, and then the bell on the door to the cafe jingled, which caused Akira, startled, to look up to welcome the incoming customer, while Akechi decided, for the first and last time in his life, to trust another human being.

When Akechi went down, gravity had no choice but to drag Akira down with him. Their skulls made a thick, sick sound against the hardwood as they hit the floor in a tangle of limbs and bruised egos. 

“What in the world are you kids up to?!” came Sojiro’s gruff voice from the entryway.

Akira’s hand shot into the air. “Trust exercises,” he said weakly. 


End file.
